


thimbleweed

by callunavulgari



Series: Holiday Writing Challenge '12 [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, Established Relationship, Fix-It, Happy Ending, M/M, Post Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-03
Updated: 2012-12-03
Packaged: 2017-11-20 04:00:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/581078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callunavulgari/pseuds/callunavulgari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We’ve been through this before, Cas. You can’t wear your tax accountant get-up to Christmas at my parents house.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	thimbleweed

**Author's Note:**

> Day 1 of the Holiday Writing Challenge on tumblr [over here](http://giraffe-tier.tumblr.com/post/35469673249/winter-drawing-writing-challenge). Prompt was 'sweaters'. Set in a post-series world where God fixed everything and brought everyone back to life. Also Cas still has some powers, but is no longer an angel. Concept based off of [this fic.](http://deancas-xmas.livejournal.com/11451.html)

“We’ve been through this before, Cas. You can’t wear your tax accountant get-up to Christmas at my parents house.”

Cas gives him an unreadable look, head cocked, then shrugs, sliding the trench coat over his shoulders to pool on the ground. The tie goes next, slithering down his chest in a slide of not-quite silk to flutter to the floor. Then the shirt, the undershirt, and he’s just starting to reach for the buckle of his pants before Dean jolts up from the bed, stilling his hands.

“The pants are fine, dude, seriously. Pants can stay. If I have to deal with a pants-less Cas right now we’ll never make it to Mom and Dad’s.”

Cas’ lips quirk in that patented Cas look—something between a very awkward smirk and a pleased smile. At one point, Dean probably would have looked away, trying to quell the flash of liquid heat roiling in his gut, but now, Dean just smiles back. Cas’ hands are always warm—they’re soft, not like Dean’s callused, rough palms. He curls his fingers, stroking his thumb against Castiel’s and grins when the other man shivers.

“What shall I wear?” Cas breathes, his eyes going soft when Dean passes over the sweater that his mom had knitted Castiel last Christmas, when neither of them had been able to come because they’d both come down with the flu.

His hands tremble a little when he reaches for the sweater, and when he pulls it over his head his hair sticks out in every direction. Dean laughs and smooths his hair back into place, saying, “We can’t have you going like that, they’ll think I debauched you in the impala on the way there.”

Castiel shrugs. “You are rather fond of doing so.”

Dean rolls his eyes. He’s about to make a crack about how they started the year 2012 (for future record, blow jobs and public indecency charges are not the best way to bring in the new year) when Castiel speaks, rubbing the soft wool between two fingers. “Sometimes I wish that I’d grown up human. It would have been nice to have a mother.”

Dean’s throat closes up, because the not having a mother thing is a sore subject. Before he can say anything, Castiel looks at him, eyes piercing and blue, the way he used to look at Dean back when he still had his wings, like he could see deep down—all the way to Dean’s soul. “I wish that you’d been able to grow up with a mother, as well,” he says quietly, reaching out to gingerly touch Dean’s shoulder.

No chick-flick moments, he tells himself. His throat’s tight and when he smiles at Cas, his vision blurs. “Yeah, well, I have her now. We can even share her. Pretty sure she already thinks of you as her son-in-law, anyway.”


End file.
